


Breathe (K. Shinguji/Reader)

by junkwhoore



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Ableism, Ableist Language, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst and Feels, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bad Ending, Canon LGBTQ Character, Character Study, Danganronpa LGBT Exchange, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Thoughts, Don't Like Don't Read, Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Underage, F/F, F/M, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Eye Contact, Forced Masturbation, Forced Orgasm, Forced Relationship, Heavy Angst, Homophobic Language, Hurt No Comfort, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Going to Hell, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, Intrusive Thoughts, Korekiyo doesn't date girls, Korekiyo's Sister has a name, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Mental Instability, Multi, No Lesbians Die, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Nonbinary Shinguji Korekiyo, Past Rape/Non-con, Pedophilia, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Rape Fantasy, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader is non-binary, Reader-Insert, Sexual Abuse, Shinguji Korekiyo's Sister Being an Asshole, Sibling Incest, Sibling Trauma, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Trans Character, Trans Shinguji Korekiyo, Transphobia, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Sex, Violent Thoughts, Yandere, Yandere Shinguji Korekiyo, dark content, no beta we die like real men, tics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29861163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkwhoore/pseuds/junkwhoore
Summary: The human race tends to remember the abuse towhich it has been subjected rather than the endearments.What's left of kisses? Wounds, however, leave scars.Where Korekiyo learns to find comfort and a safe spacefrom his abusive older sister.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede/Tojo Kirumi, Asahina Aoi/Ogami Sakura, Chabashira Tenko/Yumeno Himiko, Gokuhara Gonta/Shinguji Korekiyo, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Hoshi Ryoma/K1-B0, Iruma Miu/Yonaga Angie, Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo, Kirigiri Kyoko/Celestia Ludenberg, Koizumi Mahiru/Saionji Hiyoko, Kuwata Leon/Maizono Sayaka, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko, Mioda Ibuki/Tsumiki Mikan, Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya, Nanami Chiaki/Sonia Nevermind, Nidai Nekomaru/Owari Akane, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi, Shinguji Korekiyo/Reader, Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. Fall From Grace

**Author's Note:**

> I love Korekiyo so damn much, and the fandom hates him for his trauma. I wanted to make this story as dark as possible, so I came up with this. This story is too dark and intensely fucked, so please, read the tags before proceeding. In this AU, Korekiyo comes out as non-binary (later in the plot), has intrusive thoughts (which can be thoughts of rape, murder, and other illegal/harmful actions), and tics. Please, let me know (kindly) if I am writing anything wrong or portraying anything inaccurately (I have tics and intrusive thoughts).

_No one will be able to love you the way I do; do be sure to remember that, my sweet Korekiyo. I'm the only person you will ever need in this life and the next ones._

Those words—those _cruel_ , _manipulative_ words had Korekiyo clinging to his older sister like a leech, desperate for her love and attention. He craved her praise, growing dependent on her despite her sickness. Korekiyo loved his older sister; they had a bond—a bond no one would ever understand. Miyadera loved Korekiyo in a way no one could love him. They would share secret kisses; the older sister would make Korekiyo promise that he wouldn't tell a soul about their relationship, and he accepted, returning her kisses. 

This taboo began when he was _ten_.

It was innocent kisses in the beginning. On Korekiyo's cheek, the tip of his nose, slowly, they became paralyzing and breath-taking. It left Kiyo weak in the knees, wanting more, to which Miyadera would tell him to be patient and not be so demanding. It was only natural that Korekiyo would grow dependent on her; she was his older sister, the only family he had left. The only person who cared about him like no other, she would care for him. Miyadera would love him. 

The kisses would progress, now daring to touch lips. Miyadera would taunt him, saying she was going to be his first for everything. His first love, first kiss, first everything. At first, he questioned her actions, saying that the kids at school said it was abnormal for siblings to kiss the way they did. According to the adults, it was wrong, but she brushed it off, saying they would never understand the love they harbored for each other, saying that many cultures supported the idea of siblings being together.

This event led to Miyadera pushing Korekiyo to study anthropology. Fortunately, he enjoyed studying other cultures and map reading, discussing the mythology surrounding each culture, and identifying ancient relics. She fashioned him a uniform along with a matching mask, going on about how he would make her dream come true. Korekiyo didn't think much of her statement, happy that his sister took her time to create a brand-new uniform for him, especially with his favorite colors.

Korekiyo's freshmen year is when their relationship took a step forward. Miyadera had become sick, unable to leave her home, and Korekiyo was her prime caretaker. It wasn't a physical sickness but more of a mental illness. Either way, Korekiyo took his time out of his day after school to care for his sister. He made her sure to gather her treats and things she desired; it was dreadfully lonely in the house, so he couldn't blame Miyadera for being so attached to Kiyo as she always remained in the place, afraid he wouldn't be there if she left.

Miyadera's request had been so random, approaching Korekiyo with this proposal. At first, he was hesitant, making excuses on why he could not give her what she desired, but Miyadera wouldn't take no for an answer, further manipulating Kiyo. "You would let me if you loved me, dear Kiyo," she would whisper in his ear, hands roaming across his bare chest, pressing kisses to his collarbone. Part of him wanted to push her away, but they loved each other, and it was expected, yes? Sister would never lie to him. 

He submitted, falling back onto the bed and let Miyadera do whatever she wanted. His submission made her smile, promising to be gentle and how she had researched beforehand. It eased Korekiyo's worries, thickly swallowing the lump in his throat. Her hands traced his abdomens, admiring the smooth skin. She voiced how she would love to mark his porcelain skin with her nails, but she would be gentle with him. 

Korekiyo was a doll in her care. A porcelain doll that would crack if mishandled. She would take her aggressions out on a simple doll if she was having a bad day, a doll the older sister would praise and love whenever he told her that he would never leave her. A beauty that tended to her sexual needs and hers alone. A doll Miyadera could abuse over and over again as long as she glued the pieces back together. A doll that was no longer made of porcelain but remained intact with glue and adhesives. 

He became closed off from his peers by the time they entered the senior year. While his classmates socialized with each other, Korekiyo kept to himself mostly. The one person he would casually talk to from time to time was Gonta, as they both enjoyed talking about bugs and their career choices involved being in the field. Of course, Kokichi would come to taunt the anthropologist but ran off when Korekiyo threatened to tear out his nerves with a blank stare. The ultimate leader ran to his beloved detective, Shuichi, claiming that Kiyo had threatened him for no reason. 

It didn't matter if his classmates found him strange. His sister was the only one who genuinely cares for them. They're in love, for fuck's sake. She was the only one who would take the time to understand him. 

He busied himself with a book during his lunch hour, sitting in the courtyard. The lunchroom was too loud; the screaming and yelling messed with his sense of hearing. He preferred being outdoors, in touch with nature; most days, Gonta would join him outside, offering his lunch, and the two would make small talk. 

Unfortunately, Gonta did not arrive at school. It didn't matter to Kiyo as he was used to being alone. He'd swapped his mask, unzipping the slot, and twirled the noodles around his fork. Miyadera had attempted to make spaghetti as he was talking about trying Italian food and studying their culture. Such a loving sister he had; Kiyo was lucky to have someone to love him. 

"Hey, hey! Is this spot taken?"

The anthropologist looked up, frowning beneath his mask. This new person was too loud for his taste but dressed interestingly. They had dirt caked on their slacks, and their blazer popped up, the red tie skewed as they scratched their cheek. "No, this seat is not taken. You're more than free to join me," he answered, resuming his meal while the new person thanked them, plopping down on the bench, kicking their legs up. "If you're going to remain here, I'd ask that you remain quiet. Loud noises mess with my sense of hearing," Kiyo stated. 

"Oh, I understand! I just need to finish up some editing," they explained, reaching into their satchel for their laptop, logging in. The anthropologist occasionally glanced at their screen, watching them edit their video, going over individual clips, and groaning when they made a mistake. It was amusing, to say the least, all this trouble for a little video. 

"For a class, I assume?"

They shook their head. "Nah, it's for my YouTube channel. I was supposed to upload two videos last night, but I was tired after streaming all evening," they laughed, finishing up the final touching before clicking submit. With a hum, they swung their legs back and forth, smiling. "Hey, I just realized I never got your name. Sorry for being so blunt about it, but mind telling me? I don't wanna refer to you as the masked guy," they teased. 

Korekiyo set down his empty container, fixing his mealtime mask. "It's Korekiyo," he introduced as they reached for his hand, not caring for the bandages, and shook his hand. 

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Korekiyo. I'm (Name), but everyone calls me (Nickname). You're free to use either one, I don't mind," they introduced, firmly shaking his hand. Their grip was comforting oddly; Kiyo liked their hands despite not being able to touch them. Their hands are beautiful, he pondered, letting his thumb brush across their hand, pulling away after an awkward silence swallowed them whole. (Name) cleaned their throat, turning to face him. "This might sound sudden, but can I have your number?"

"My number?"

(Name) bobbed her head up and down. "Yeah, I'm always looking for new people to talk to, and I think you're pretty cool," they pointed out, gesturing to his outfit, mostly his mealtime mask. "You got a terrific aesthetic going on. I like it," (Name) complimented. 

Korekiyo thanked them, placing the plastic bowl in his knapsack. "I, unfortunately, do not own a phone, but I'm more than willing to give you my email instead," he offered. 

(Name) happily accepted, tearing out a piece of paper and scribbled down their email address, handing the shred of paper to Kiyo. "Don't be shy to shoot me a message whenever. I always have my notifications turned on," they informed with a cheeky grin, shoving their laptop in their satchel, slinging their strap over their shoulder. 

"You must live on the internet, then," he mocked playfully, stretching out his arms while (Name) slugged his shoulder, snickering as Kiyo caressed his arm. 

"It's part of my job," they whined, walking with Korekiyo back to the main building, chatting his ear off as he merely listened, nodding his head whenever they asked for his input. (Name) was exciting, rambling on and on about what they liked to do and asking Korekiyo questions in return. They comforted Korekiyo; he felt happy. Happier than when he was around Miyadera, (Name) cared about his interests and didn't cut him off whenever he began speaking passionately about his hobbies. They listened along, asking for clarification if they didn't understand. Miyadera would just hum and dismiss him once she became bored.

They parted their ways and (Name) told Kiyo that they would be expecting an email from him soon and how nice it was to meet him. The statement made Kiyo feel warm inside; his heart swelled, yet he frowned beneath his mask. They had just met, but (Name) was growing on him. He liked their presence more than his sister's—no! That statement was wrong; no one could replace the love he and his sister shared. No one could love Korekiyo the way Miyadera loved him. 

After all, lovers have sex. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The house was quiet as Korekiyo stepped inside, setting his satchel near the bookcase. "Sister?" he called out, unzipping his mask as he wandered the halls, peeking into the master bedroom. Miyadera must have folded the sheets and laid out a set of clean clothes. He frowned, shutting the door behind him before searching the other rooms, finding his sister laying in a chair, blanket wrapped around her thin body while a book laid open in her lap. The anthropologist crouched beside her, weaving their fingers together, waiting like a lap dog. 

His bandages had already come off, and Miyadera's hands aren't as nice as (Name)'s; Miyadera's hands are more prominent than Korekiyo's despite her being sick and fragile-looking. The older sister stirred in her sleep, sleepily staring at her beloved little brother, and smiled, smoothing her thumb across his lips. "I was waiting for you; it was lonely in the house today," she murmured, taking Kiyo's hand and leaned on himself for support, hobbling out of the room with the young anthropologist following after her. "You ought to stay at home with me instead. You don't need to go to the academy every day. I'm capable of teaching you the material you need to know," she brought up, staggering into the kitchen and leaned against the counter for support.

Korekiyo exhaled quietly, pressing his lips together. He hated it when Miyadera brought up homeschool; yes, he didn't have many friends, but he loved Hope's Peak Academy. The atmosphere, the people, and the varieties of cultures he got to examine and analyze were terrific; it was a pleasure that he could not describe, fascinated with how other parts of their disgusting world worked and function. He would experience both the ugly and the beauty of their decaying world; Kiyo would examine it all. 

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Sister. I am required to attend this academy if I want to provide for you in the future. If I graduate from this school, I'll officially be an anthropologist, and money will no longer be an issue for us," he explained. So, Korekiyo stretched the truth; it wouldn't hurt anyone in the long run. Gazing in Miyadera's golden eyes, Korekiyo watched for any facial response, holding his breath as she frowned, reaching for his face. 

Her fingers hooked around the side of his mask, yanking down the thick cloth and leaned forward, pulling him down to her level, and forced eye contact with him. Miyadera cooed, kissing him gently, massaging his cheeks while Korekiyo whimpered in the kiss, practically melting while she caressed him. Pulling away, she swiped the drool across his lips, smiling. "Don't you love me, Kiyo? Don't you want to make me happy?" she asked quietly, nudging his lips apart and let out a happy sigh when the taller male whimpered at her touch, falling apart like putty in her grasp. 

Yes, Korekiyo wanted to make his sister happy. She was the only one who cared for him; no one else would love him as she did. If he fucked up, it was his fault, and Miyadera would forgive him no matter how many times he messed up. Like a dog, Korekiyo would come crawling back to his master, even if she had beat him within an inch of his life. 

Miyadera ordered him to kneel with a pleased smile, caressing his face when he obeyed, awaiting her further instructions. Korekiyo was so obedient and so submissive for her; the power fix she got—made her shiver with delight. The sister stole another kiss from Kiyo, trailing her lips down his neck, smiling against his skin when he let out a sobbing noise—a mixture between a broken moan and a whimper—babbling her name as she shushed him again. "Just relax; we've down this before, sweet Kiyo," she murmured, undoing the buttons of his uniform, shucking the green blazer off, and smoothed her hands across his narrow shoulders. 

Kiyo was beautiful, thin, and delicate like a swan. He could be mistaken for a girl if he didn't speak; he and Miyadera could switch places, and no one would suspect a thing. He kept himself clean, loving the praise he received for his big sister, falling apart in her hands whenever she touched him. The kisses and intercourse from time to time were regular; their interactions are nuanced, Korekiyo would think, allowing himself to submit, letting Miyadera take control. She knew what was best for him, even when he denied her advanced, Miyadera would still proceed forward because she had Korekiyo's best interest in mind; she always knew what was best for him, even if he didn't want it. 

" _Sister_ ," Korekiyo groaned, craning his head to the side, feeling his heart race when she removed his dress-shirt and fondled his chest. His throat went dry, unable to speak as Miyadera kissed down his body, listening to her light breathing. The way his body quivered and trembled made Miyadera continue with her actions, letting her fingers hover about his groin. She pressingly pressed her hand against the fly of his pants, messing with the zipper as she maintained eye contact with him, assuring Korekiyo that she would be gentle this time. 

He liked it when she was gentle. It didn't feel good when she treated him like a broken doll; it always left him feeling useless and stupid. He preferred Miyadera's praise and undivided attention; Korekiyo loved her. He loved her when she would smack him in the back of the head, screaming at him—calling him a useless boy. Calling him a good-for-nothing child, loved it when she would ignore his pleads, not caring when he scratched at her skin as she forced him onto the bed. Strength didn't matter as Korekiyo was afraid of hurting his sister; he didn't want to hurt the one person that cared for him in this cruel world. 

He preferred her gentle touch over her aggressive advances. Choking on his breath, Korekiyo let out a moan, his toes curling and his head falling back. Sister was so nice to him; Miyadera treated him with kindness and loved him. She loved a stupid anthropologist who could provide her with nothing. She loved a hopeless boy who always felt a need to open his mouth and retort her statements. Miyadera loved a broken boy who could never say no to her despite the sinking feeling in his stomach every time they touched and laid with each other. She loved him—he should be grateful that anyone would love him. He was fucking filthy, the equivalent of human waste.

Yes, he was trash, and he should be grateful that anyone would waste their precious time with him, taking time out of their day to give him any form of attention. So, why did his heart throb? Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't Korekiyo figure out what was wrong with him?


	2. New Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I had an awful episode with my intrusive thoughts when writing this chapter, so some of the intrusive thoughts in the story are also a reflection of my intrusive thoughts (please be mindful that I, as well as others, cannot control what we think hence why they are called INTRUSIVE thoughts).

Sister was displeased with him again. A muted pain flared throughout his cheeks as he laid on his side, facing the opposite direction of Miyadera. He had broken eye contact with her when they were making love. She hated when he closed his eyes or looked away; Miyadera stated that made her feel undesirable, and it hurt her feelings. Korekiyo never wanted to hurt Miyadera's feelings. He loved her too much to hurt her but, his mind managed to wander, and he would often disassociate when she began advancing towards him. 

  


It wasn't his fault; Korekiyo couldn't help the fact that he would disassociate during sex. The moment her hand coiled around his cock or she undressed, Korekiyo could feel himself not existing within their plane of reality. It was difficult for him to explain or put into words for anyone to understand. It was comparable to blacking out—akin to spacing out—but he was conscious the whole time, and he could feel and hear everything. Every suck and slurp, the way her nails dug into his back as she moaned in his ear, adoring him. She would call him a good boy—a pliant boy as she gyrated her hips, disregarding Korekiyo's wants, and his shaky pleads. His body was floating, hovering just above the spiraling void. 

  


"Korekiyo," Miyadera breathed, sitting up, looking over at his curled-up figure, dipping her finger down his exposed spine, watching the younger one shiver from her glacial touch, enveloping himself in the blanket as she required him to face her. Dubiously, the anthropologist turned towards her, resting his head in her lap, closing his eyes while her fingers weaved through his salubrious strands of hair, praising him. "See, you can be a good boy when you decide to listen. I do not like punishing you, but you need to stay paying attention to me," she gently prodded, pressing her lips against his temple. 

  


Yes, all he needed to be was a good boy. If he listened to Sister, she wouldn't have to get violent with him. She was quite strong for a sick, infirm woman; Miyadera could easily overpower Korekiyo due to his sheer build. He answered with a weak yes, burying his face in her thighs, inhaling and exhaling. Her hand combed through his hair while Miyadera stated that she was envious of Korekiyo's hair, ordering him to sit up and sit with his back to her. He complied because he was a good boy; it would make Sister happy if he listened to her the first time. 

  


He sat up slowly, pulling the blankets to cover their lower halves, back facing Miyadera as he tilted his head back, closing his eyes when she began massaging his scalp, making sure that his hair wouldn't become tangled. She then began braiding his hair, telling him that if he grew it out long enough, he could donate some hair to her and how happy it would make her. Hearing her go on about how she would love to have beautiful, luscious hair like Korekiyo's made him want to grow out his hair so he could cut it and donate his hair for her. If it made Sister happy, Korekiyo would be satisfied in turn.

  


"I'll grow it out for you," Korekiyo murmured, squeezing his hands when Miyadera kissed his cheek lovingly. Sister loved him; she was being gentle again and showing him affection. Miyadera wasn't angry with him anymore; could she have possibly forgiven him for his mistake earlier? Sister was so kind to him, forgiving a fuck up like him. He oppressed her, not giving her the same attention she gave him; what kind of brother was he if he couldn't show her the same love she showed him?

  


The bed shifted, and Korekiyo watched Miyadera slide out of bed, draping a blanket across her nude body, letting her hair spill down her shoulders, padding out the room without a single word. Anxiety rose in Korekiyo's chest again, seizing the back of his throat as he wet his lips, trying to control his breathing. Maybe he was wrong, and Miyadera was still angry with him. He didn't blame her; Korekiyo made empty promises, assuring Sister that he would never space out whenever she loved him or gave him attention over and over again, but it always happened. He deserved every slap and hit she threw his way; Korekiyo deserved every callous and ruthless thing she spat at him in the heat of the moment—he was a miserable lover and a bad brother for treating Miyadera horribly. 

  


"Sister?" Korekiyo called out, slipping back on his mask and clothes, rushing out the room, frantically searching for the older woman. The sound of the tea kettle alerted Korekiyo, indicating that Miyadera was in the kitchen. She was at the dining table, running her finger along the edge of the table while she stared off, humming to herself. Once again, Korekiyo called out for her. "Sister?"

  


"Quiet, Kiyo, and come sit with me," she murmured gently, gesticulating to the chair. It wasn't a suggestion but an order; he sat down like a good boy, lowering his head as they sat together, listening to the high-pitched whistle of the tea kettle. Miyadera averted her gaze upwards, reaching across the table, and gingerly stroked his hand. "You know I love you, correct? And I'm the only person who will ever love you?" the older sibling asked, the corners of her lips stretching into a smile as he nodded, accepting the fact no one would ever love him as Miyadera did. That answer made her smile grow, squeezing his hand as she hummed. "Of course, you do. I'm the only one you have left."

  


The only person who gave a damn about his worthless existence, but trash could become a treasure in due time. He gave Miyadera a nod, trying his best to maintain eye contact. Her glowing eyes burned holes in his soul, yet he couldn't tear himself away; Miyadera deserved his undivided attention. Boldly, he leaned across the table and kissed her; Sister liked his kisses; she had made it abundantly clear that he should initiate the kisses more often. When they pulled away, Kiyo asked, "Was that acceptable?"

  


Miyadera swiped her tongue across her lower lip, nodding her head. "Yes, that was acceptable," she answered, raising her feet to tend to the kettle and poured two cups of tea for Korekiyo and herself. Sitting back at the table, she drank her tea in silence, fixing the blanket around her shoulders. The older sister smiled at Kiyo, squeezing his hand. "I never asked you how your day was at school. How inconsiderate of me; how was your day?"

  


The anthropologist blew on his tea, staring down at the light-colored liquid, searching for an answer. "It was adequate, I suppose," he answered, undoing his bandages—it was a nuisance when they get soaked. He could feel Miyadera's eyes on him as he slowly drank the tea, thanking her before averting his eyes down. Korekiyo wasn't shy by any means, but he could never maintain eye contact for long. Miyadera would always complain about how his eyes should be on him, and Korekiyo would try to please his sister, but he could never maintain eye contact. "I'm sorry," Korekiyo said, adjusting his body and looked Miyadera in the eyes. 

  


Her eyes haunted him, staring at him like neon cat eyes. Her gaze sent shivers down his backside, anxiety pooling in his stomach while she clicked her tongue, tapping her finger along the rim of her cup. Instinctively, Korekiyo tensed up his body. Sister was going to smack him again—he deserved it. He should have just looked at her; it wasn't that hard to do. Fuck, why was he such a fuck up—

  


Miyadera stroked his cheek with a smile, not minding the mask. "That's good you had a good day, Korekiyo, and I've noticed you've made progress with your little problem after our earlier session," she complimented, leaning forward and kissed his forehead. "That's good; I'm proud," she praised. 

  


Sister was pleased? Sister was delighted Kiyo was making progress. Oh, those words made his heart flutter, and his stomach curved into knots; Miyadera wasn't mad at him anymore. He smiled underneath his mask, curling his slender fingers aground the steaming cup. He didn't care that he was burning his hand—Miyadera was happy and forgave him for being stupid and inconsiderate earlier. When her fingers kissed his smooth skin, Korekiyo could feel himself melting into her touch, wanting more. He craved her touch; it was addictive and compassionate. 

  


Sister admired him—he pleased Sister. Sister wasn't irate anymore. It made his heart swell, thumping against his chest. When Miyadera stood up, Korekiyo's eyes followed her covered figure, entranced while she prepared another kettle of tea. "I suppose we should eat dinner; is there anything, in particular, you would like? I do believe I have enough strength to make us a meal," she stated, rummaging through the cabinets.

  


"You shouldn't be up if you are in pain," was Korekiyo's retort, pushing his chair in, and escorted his sister to the couch despite her shouts and protesting. He didn't want to hurt her; however, Korekiyo didn't want to see her in the hospital again. Tracing her jawline, he kissed Miyadera's cheek, feeling her anger subside when he squatted beside her, resting his head on her lap. "You spoil me too much, Sister. I would like to return the favor if you would let me," he mumbled, intertwining their fingers, and gave Miyadera's hand a squeeze.

  


With a croon, she stroked Korekiyo's hair, weaving her fingers through his silk strands of hair. "I do spoil you, you are correct, but that is my job and because I want to. Even bad pets deserve to have a little free time," Miyadera mused, smiling at her little brother, leaning against the cushion. Silence blanketed the two of them as she breathed lightly, closing her eyes while Korekiyo remained by her side, head pressed against her supple thighs. Yes, Korekiyo would treat her better and be an acquiescent pet from now on; Miyadera was the only one who would ever show him this affection in this lifetime. 

  


Would Sister be there with him in the next life? Korekiyo hoped so; he couldn't stand the thought of being alone. Sister was his only reason for living; he wanted to provide for her and care for her. Miyadera deserved his entire world and love; words were not enough to describe his affection for his beloved Miyadera. The feeling of her fingers against his skin brought Korekiyo back to reality, nuzzling his face into her hand. "Good boy," she warbled, scratching beneath his chin, smiling when he became greedy for her touch, leaning forward. "If you want to be a good lover, you should make us both dinner. I am in pain, after all, sweet Kiyo. You wouldn't want me to hurt myself, would you?" she asked, lowering her voice. 

  


No, Korekiyo would never want Miyadera to languish in agony for his sake; he was supposed to return the favor and care for his beloved sister. That's what lovers did; they cared for each other and helped each other through hardships. With a nod, Korekiyo adjusted his posture, slowly rising to his feet. "Yes, of course," he conceded, fixing his mask, brushing Miyadera's hair out of her face. He smoothed his bandaged thumb across her bottom lip, smearing her lip gloss. It was a magnificent spectacle, inexplicably yet wholly erogenous at the same time. When she let out a gratified hum, parting her lips, Kiyo felt a fervid sensation pooling in his abdomen. For once, it felt good, no, better than times he touched Miyadera. 

  


She spoke quietly, "Would it be too much to ask you to buy pork tenderloin for shogayaki and for your lunch tomorrow?" The way she talked, quiet and gentle, motherly in an odd way, made Kiyo bob his head up and down, agreeing to leave despite it being late in the evening. Thankfully, a small store was just down the street, and it would only take him thirty minutes. Miyadera never bothered to buy a car, nor could she afford it, and why would she buy a vehicle that she would never use? Korekiyo never lamented or voiced his opinion about owning a car, and he preferred walking. 

  


When she smiled, thanking Korekiyo, he returned the smile and went to dress appropriately. He supposed the hat and uniform wouldn't be necessary, so he dressed in a simple pair of sport pants and a white t-shirt. His hair pooled around his lower back in messy curls, and his eyes were red, puffy underneath from his crying earlier. Why was he crying? He couldn't remember why he sobbed as he warily massaged the puffy bags beneath his golden eyes. Was Miyadera's love so potent and robust that it moved him to tears? Was it the way they touched, confessing their sinful love and desires to each other behind closed doors, consumed by the wicked pleasure that seared and bubbled beneath their skin? 

  


It mattered not, right now. Retrieving the wallet from the dresser, Korekio informed his sister he would be back in due time and sauntered out the door, wrapping his jacket around his thin body. The cold was always lovely, kissing his pale skin while he dragged his feet along the sidewalk, wasting no time. Evening walks allowed Korekiy to self-reflect and scrutinizes the radiance around him, capturing elegance in its purest form, rich and enticing. 

  


With the sun beating down on him, the anthropologist hastened his pace, shifting his mask while breathing heavily. He couldn't take his time walking; Sister would grow weary and worry if he stayed out too late. "I'm scared you'll decide to leave me," is what she would whisper into his ear whenever he returned, pulling him into her warm embrace, caressing his backside. Like always, the younger sibling promised his older sister that he would never abandon her. 

  


She was all he had left. 

  


The store wasn't as packed as Korekiyo expected, eyes shifting around as he scanned the small groups of people that walked up and down the aisles. The anthropologist wouldn't be wandering around the store for long; it was a short list of ingredients for shogayaki, so Kiyo wouldn't keep his beloved sister waiting for too long. Perhaps, he would buy her a treat for being away from her. A wat to make up to her. 

  


"Hey, Kiyooooo! I didn't expect to see you here," a familiar voice called out. He felt a reassuring arm drape across his lean shoulders, pulling him further inside the store. Had Korekiyo not taken a liking to (Name), he would have threatened to tear out their nerves. 

  


"Hello again, (Name). I see we've managed to run into each other once more," the anthropologist stated as the blogger beamed cheekily, patting his back. "What do I owe the pleasure of you running into me again?" he queried, strolling alongside his classmate.

  


With a shrug of their shoulders, (Name) snatched a handbasket and followed Korekiyo around the store. "I need to pick up some groceries from the store. My little brother's making dinner tonight, but his dumb ass didn't want to walk all the way to the store. So here I am," they explained, tossing two full and ripe tomatoes into their cart, handing Kiyo a knob of ginger. "What are you doing here? I never got an email from you," they playfully whined. 

  


Ah, yes. Korekiyo recalled (Name) slipped him their email address earlier. He was so bewitched by Miyadera and her comforting words, drowning in the fluctuations of sheer ecstasy, that he had forgotten entirely about emailing his new acquaintance. "My apologies, I was busy with other manners. I'll be sure to email you before I go to bed," he answered, adding a clove of garlic to his cart. "Do you have other plans for today after we depart from here?" he asked, curious about (Name)'s outside activities. Despite only knowing them for less than twenty-four hours, Kiyo was intrigued by their presence and the confident air they carried themself with. 

  


(Name) handed Korekiyo a small bottle of soy sauce, wetting their bottom lip. "Not much, I guess. Gonna finish the rest of my homework, live-stream for a bit, and go to bed. I don't do anything exciting, really. My brother is the interesting one out of the two of us," they chuckled, scratching their head. Their laugh was capricious, outstretching their arms while the duo located the meat section. 

  


"I'm sure that you're appealing in your own way, (Name). You mustn't think so low of yourself," Korekiyo gently reprimanded. That's rich, coming from him of all people. Kiyo was always putting himself down, saying that he such a trash human being. How he was ineffectual, and Miyadera shouldn't be wasting her time on someone as unpretentious and inadequate as him. Going on about how she deserved so much better than what he could afford to give her. 

  


"Aw, shucks. You're gonna make me blush," the blogger joked, weighting two packages of meat in their hands, turning to Kiyo for advice. "Should I get pork or chicken? I would get beef, but Kokichi always makes such a big stink about how he likes his beef cooked rare and always bitches about me overcooking it," they sighed.

  


Kiyo raised an eyebrow, mystified at (Name)'s previous comment. "You and Ouma are related? I would never have made the connection; you two are, well, not to mince words or beat around the bush, act completely different," he bluntly said, gesturing to the cut of chicken breast. 

  


"Ah, I should clear that up. We aren't related by blood; we're siblings legally because my family adopted him, that's all," they explained, handing Korekiyo the slabs of pork upon his request. "We've been close since we were five. Kokichi may act like a little shit and childish as hell, but he's a good friend," they added.

  


This warranted a laugh from the anthropologist. "I never thought I would hear  _ good _ and  _ Kokichi _ in the same sentence. You amuse me, (Name)," Korekiyo complimented, adding a bundle of green onions to his basket. (Name) was unusual in the anthropologist's opinion, but positively, he affirmed. They were loud and exhilarating, the sheer opposite of him. It was beautiful, overflowing with a bright radiance that overwhelmed him, yet he desired to see this beauty. He wanted to see the beautiful sides of (Name) as well as their ugly sides. 

  


Korekiyo wanted to  _ ravage _ them. 

  


With a laugh, (Name) rubbed their shoulder. "You compliment me too much, Kiyo. I'm just a simple person with basic needs and tastes and a decent moral compass," they stated as the two of them finished their shopping. 

  


They lingered in the aisles, casually chatting and discussing their interest, losing track of time. Kiyo was right; (Name) was an exciting person to talk to. There was something about them that made Kiyo want to learn more about them. To dissect them, study their being, discover what made them tick, and motivate them to keep living in this plague-infested world. What their dreams and fears are? What was (Name) passionate about? Korekiyo wanted to learn  _ everything _ about (Name). 

  


The blogger licked their lips, ringing up their items at the self-checkout. "Hey, I meant to ask this earlier, but would you like to hang out sometime? I know we just met hours before, and this is so sudden, but I think you're a cool guy to hang out with, Kiyo," they rambled, swiping their credit card, selecting the dollar amount, and entering in their PIN. 

  


"Is that so? I'm flattered," Korekiyo answered with a hum, helping (Name) bag their groceries. The blogger was the first person to say he was good company; his peers had been wary of his demeanor and how they spoke to him (except for Gonta and Kokichi). He "had a passionate temper when exasperated," is how Shuichi kindly explained it when he asked. "If you would like, I see no reason why we cannot. I enjoy your company as well," he responded, paying for his groceries. 

  


(Name) chirped happily, carrying their bags, telling Korekiyo that they could manage. Like a gentleman, Kiyo escorted his new friend to their car. Friend, the word felt nice on his tongue. Assuring and warm, it made him smile beneath his mask. The anthropologist couldn't recall the last time he considered someone his friend. Of course, Gonta treated him with kindness, and he enjoyed the entomologist's company, but Kiyo had thoughts about doing horrible things to the pure-hearted boy. 

  


Kiyo often wondered how Gonta's throat would feel in his hands. Would Gonta try to fight him off? What did his screams and cry sound like? How would he plead for his life? The thoughts screamed at Korekiyo, rattling against the cage like a wild beast, demanding to be released. Those were just the more tame thoughts; the intrusive thoughts were borderline illegal. No, they  _ were _ prohibited, yet the idea of acting out such atrocities excited the anthropologist to his core. He  _ wanted  _ to hurt Gonta, to destroy the naive boy's body. 

  


God, Korekiyo was fucking revolting. What sane human would want to violate someone? Yet, he could visualize it clearly. Fuck, he could almost hear the pleads and whimpers; it was disgusting. What a repulsing person he was--

  


"Kiyo, you okay?" (Name) asked, gaining Korekiyo's attention. 

  


_ No, no, I am not. I am an ugly human,  _ is what he wanted to answer with, but he held his tongue, smiling. "Yes, I suppose. I was just  _ thinking. _ "  _ Thinking of how charming you would with my hands around your throat. Thinking about how pleasant it would be to hear you scream and beg for clemency. Querying how beautiful you would be with blood and lipstick smeared across your angelic face.  _

  


"Oh, I thought I was bothering you with my rambling. Sorry if I annoyed you," (Name) laughed, loading the last of their groceries into the car, shutting the trunk. "Want me to walk you to your car?"

  


Kiyo couldn't help but chuckle, waving his hand. "Ah, I don't drive. It makes me rather uncomfortable," he admitted. Well, it wasn't a lie, per se. While Korekiyo wasn't claustrophobic, he never enjoyed being behind the wheel, making him apprehensive. "I live relatively close, so there's no need to worry."

  


(Name) already had the passenger's door open for Kiyo, gesturing to the seat. "Get inside already. It's cold out, and the last thing we need is you getting sick," they hummed, taking his bags and setting them on the floorboard. They were stubborn, not letting the anthropologist decline their offer as they ushered him into the warm vehicle. "Trust me, you'll prefer this over walking out in this weather," they added merrily, sliding into the driver's seat and let the car roar to life. 

  


_ Note: (Name) is stubborn and refuses to take no for an answer,  _ Korekiyo thought, folding his hands in his lap. Unlike his sister, (Name) didn't threaten him, nor did they force him to do anything he didn't want to do if it was to harm him. The blogger was simply worried about the anthropologist's wellbeing. Their concern for him was commendable, he supposed, leaning his head against the headrest. 

  


"Hey, mind if I ask you a question?" (Name) blurted out. 

  


"I see no harm. What is your question?" was Korekiyo's quick response, golden eyes scanning (Name)'s body language. 

  


"How come you always wear a mask? Isn't it uncomfortable?"

  


Ah, Korekiyo was anticipating their question sooner or later. Everyone always questioned why he wore the mask and army-based attire. Sister explained that the color scheme and design suited him; it made him appear more professional.  _ It looks you well on you, dear Kiyo. Better than your other uniform  _ is what Miyadera had whispered in his ear before kissing the base of his neck. 

  


His fingers wrapped around the zipper, letting the cold metal sit between his bandaged fingers. "My sister made the uniform I wear every day, and I thought the mask would be a fitting, personal touch. I'm more surprised that you didn't ask about the bandages, but this piqued your interest," Korekiyo taunted, tugging at the piece of fabric. 

  


(Name) shrugged their shoulders. "I thought you hurt your hands," they quipped. 

  


"I see," was Korekiyo's terse response. They sat in silence; the anthropologist would tell (Name) which road they would need to turn down, receiving thanks, and again, they would fall back into the silent void. The taciturnity was both a beautiful and terrifying thing for Kiyo but was more endurable than the darkness. "I take it you're always this inquisitive when you meet new people, or is this just limited to me?" 

  


They laughed, applying their foot to the gas pedal. "Just you," they joked, pulling into the driveway of Korekiyo's house after he gestured to the small building. (Name) took the bags from Kiyo, assuring him that they didn't mind carrying the groceries despite the anthropologist's protest. "So, it is just you and your sister, or are your parents home?" they asked. 

  


"Just sister and I," he answered quietly, fishing his keys out of his pocket. There was no need as the door swung open, and Kiyo found himself face-to-face with Miyadera. He exhaled, squeezing his key while his golden eyes scanned his older sibling over. She had dressed appropriately, clad in a green-and-black kimono, and her navy green hair was pulled back into a traditional layered bun, pinned back with a red lotus hairclip. "Ah, I wasn't expecting you to be up, Sister," Kiyo answered, feeling (Name) peek over his shoulder.

  


Miyadera took note of Korekiyo's little friend; her face fell but was promptly substituted with a forced smile. "I see you brought over a friend, dear Korekiyo. Don't be so rude and introduce me to your friend," she hummed, offering a closed eye smile. 

  


"I'm (Surname) (Name), it's a pleasure to meet you!" the blogger asserted cheerfully, offering a courteous bow. This warranted an amused laugh from Miyadera, a laugh that made (Name)'s stomach twist. "You're gorgeous," they blurted out. 

  


Miyadera, again, laughed, waving a hand carelessly. "Oh? You think so? Thank you for your compliment. Korekiyo, see how respectful your friend is. You could learn a thing or two from them," she taunted, opening the door for her little brother. "Forgive me if this is sudden or less than ideal, but would you like to stay for dinner? I'm sure Korekiyo would _love_ to have a friend over for once," she offered, squeezing the anthropologist's shoulder. 

  


"I would love to! I'll just call my parents and tell them I'm gonna be a little late!" (Name) confirmed, rushing out to the car for their phone. Kiyo could feel a pit forming in his stomach as Miyadera pushed him inside, towards the kitchen with that sickly-sweet smile on her face. He knew what she was thinking; fuck, he knew what Miyadera was planning. 

  


The younger sibling tried to speak, but Miyadera shut him up, clasping her hand across his mouth as she narrowed her neon yellow eyes. "You think (Name) is beautiful, don't you? You're thinking of replacing me, aren't you? How you hurt me, my beloved. Here I have wasted my life away caring for you, and this is how you repay me? By seeking out potential lovers? _Better_ _mates_?" she hissed, ripping his mask away. Miyadera claimed his lips hungrily, holding Korekiyo in place, not caring how he whimpered into her mouth. She pulled away, smearing her gloss across his lips as he had done earlier to her. "I own every inch of your body, mind, and soul. You are mine, Korekiyo. Each pound of flesh belongs to _me_ and me alone." 

  


When Miyadera heard the door shut, she handed Korekiyo his mask, patting his cheek. "Come now; we have to make dinner still and  _ entertain  _ our guest." 

**Author's Note:**

> For faster updates and to talk to me more, please check out my Wattpad 1800SADOMASOCHIST.


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